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Started by: jarvo (30250)
MRS ROBINSON
You were never Mrs Robinson-
too young for that-
and blonde anyway.
But...
I heard the song again today:
Summer Sunday afternoons,
out on the cropped grass.
There were no trees then,
and the sun shone as summer passed.
You were my Liza Goddard:
as fresh as the yellow primrose,
sitting on the factory wall
under a deep blue sky.
But time went unnoticed,
and autumn took you
as I knew it would.
Then the skies turned grey
and the factory shut for good.
But,
you were never Mrs Robinson,
but to me maybe you
were:
Sitting, fifty-two years later,
across this crowded room-
with flowers in your hair...
Jarvo 2020
Replied: 12th Feb 2020 at 13:49